


The Beast with those Four Dirty Paws

by JensenAckles13



Series: One Part Insanity, Two Parts Chaos [7]
Category: Avengers, Frostiron - Fandom, Marvel
Genre: Ficlet, His influence is though, Jotun Loki, M/M, Norse Mythology - Freeform, Odin's A+ Parenting, Sort of angsty from Loki's POV, Though Odin isn't actually in this, Tony Stark Has A Heart, with a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-09
Updated: 2014-09-09
Packaged: 2018-02-16 17:42:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2278812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JensenAckles13/pseuds/JensenAckles13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki didn’t wait any longer; he leaned in and kissed Anthony like a dying man. <br/>If there were tears like crystal ice running down Loki’s cheeks, neither of them said anything. <br/>Anthony simply released his hands and his lips, and turned Loki, facing him towards the city and the colored lights and the snow and the smell of pine in the air; the mad inventor wound his arms around Loki’s waist from behind and rested his chin on the god’s shoulder, twining his tanned fingers with Loki’s azure ones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beast with those Four Dirty Paws

_“We’re born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship_   
_can we create the illusion for the moment that we’re not alone.”_   
_-Orson Welles_

Loki closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose, pretending Anthony wasn’t so close; pretending he couldn’t feel the heat of his lover’s body even through his clothing; that he was perfectly fine even though every world seemed to know he was not.

“ _Oh_ ,” Anthony breathed, calloused fingertips coming to rest on Loki’s cheek, a warm, gentle presence that grounded him more than it should have been able; then, Anthony oft did things that he shouldn’t have been able- it was a gift he carried well. “You’re…”

“ _Hideous_ ,” Loki mumbled, unable to open his eyes; wishing he wouldn’t see the horror he knew would be there. “A _monster_ …”

“What?” Anthony asked, sounding shocked. “No! Oh, Loki, nonono….”

Loki risked opening his eyes, found Anthony’s trained on him, wide and shocked and…amazed. Loki recognized that look; remembered it from the inventor’s first trip through the bifrost, and when he first saw the Rainbow Bridge _(Einstein-Rosen, Anthony insisted he call it)_ ; remembered it from when he took Anthony to Alfhiem to see the Light Elves extensive weaponry and strange metals; it was a look of pure wonder and amazement and it was directed at Loki, as if he were the most incredible thing the inventor had ever seen.

“You’re beautiful, Loki, so fucking beautiful…” Anthony murmured softly, cupping Loki’s jaw in his hand. Loki leaned into the warmth the mad inventor offered, placing his own hand over the others for a moment before dropping it.

“I’m…” Loki trailed off, watching the inventor with worried eyes, unable to finish his sentence lest it be a lie.

“Absolutely,” Anthony answered without hesitation and leaned forward without uttering another sound, pressing his lips to Loki’s.   
The mad inventor’s lips were burning, searing and oh so wonderful despite the chastity of the kiss; despite its burning gentleness, as it Anthony were afraid the god would break.   
Loki wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t.

When they pulled apart, if only for the need to breathe, Loki let his gaze wander to his own azure hands; watched as Anthony’s took both of his and their fingers twined together; he found himself mesmerized by the difference; Anthony’s fingers were shorter, his skin dark and tanned from the sun, his hands strong, muscle and bone moving beneath his skin as he squeezed Loki’s hands lightly; Loki’s fingers were longer, his skin dark, dark blue, his hands leaner, moving more fluid than Anthony’s, yet possessing the same grace the mad inventor’s did.

“I-I’m  Jotun, Anthony. A monster. How could you…” _ever love something like me?_

“I love you because you’re you,” Anthony told him, shifting to look into the god’s downcast, crimson eyes. “And because you’re the only thing I’ve really loved in a long, long time, and I’m not going to give that up, give _us_ up, because you’re an icy Smurf, okay? I love you too much to let that happen, too much to let you go and there’s nothing you can say or do to make me think any differently.”

Loki didn’t wait any longer; he leaned in and kissed Anthony like a dying man.   
If there were tears like crystal ice running down Loki’s cheeks, neither of them said anything.   
Anthony simply released his hands and his lips, and turned Loki, facing him towards the city and the colored lights and the snow and the smell of pine in the air; the mad inventor wound his arms around Loki’s waist from behind and rested his chin on the god’s shoulder, twining his tanned fingers with Loki’s azure ones.

“Merry Christmas, Loki,” Tony murmured softly, kissing the side of his neck.

Loki gazed out at the city, Anthony a comforting warmth against his back, and he smiled.

“Merry Christmas, Anthony.”  

**Author's Note:**

> So, I actually really like this one, and if there are any mistakes, I'm half asleep so...sorry?   
> Let me know what you think!  
> Kudos and reviews are my favorite ever!


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